He, being the sun,
He stole the blue sky.
He left me nothing but
the storm clouds

And storm clouds cry.

I’m so sick
Obsessing
over and over
The thoughts
Of what could have been
in reality
It doesn’t matter
Because you and I
We are nothing
I’m so tired
Confessing
Over and over
Rerun scenarios
Of what happened
It doesn’t matter
But you and I
Used to be everything

I wonder, what do you think about..
As those empty walls surround you,
Do they feel like they are closing in.
Do you ever glance through the metal bars eager to see me whispering by...
Do I ever cross your mind when you stare up at your ceiling
Or am I just wasting wishes,
staring at mine.

There's the high,
And there's the low
Oh, but the numbness in the middle,
Feels most like home to me.

Silly how you can pack 8 years into 30 boxes
Move them away and pack them into a closet
Like it never happened.
Out of sight of mind.
Silly that you think I can do the same
When I wake up everyday
And see three faces.
Both of your daughters.
And my own blurred in the mirror.
The ones you left behind.
With nothing left from 8 years
Just 30 boxes in a closet of remorse.

Sad but I feel like nothing
Still but I am sick at the sea
waves inside my stomach swaying
washing away from you and me
Taking me to the bottom of the ocean
Sinking through our used to bes.

Why don't you
save it.
I'm so tried.
Halfway apologies
Half answered prayers.
Its always
one sided.
Bittersweet conversations
Vacant blank stares
I wish i could
save it.
Why don't you?